


A New Day On The Downs

by AlElizabeth



Category: Watership Down - Richard Adams
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months have passed since the Battle of Watership Down and a young rabbit named Walnut is taken on an adventure the likes of which thrust him into a world of new enemies and friends far from everything he has ever known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dawn Silflay

I rise to taste the dawn and find that love alone will shine today

-Ken Wilber

A solitary rabbit sat in the short grass of the downs, mere yards from the hole from which he had emerged.

The rabbit was young, not even a yearling yet, but even then he believed he knew more about the world than most others.

In his short life, the young buck had known more peril and adventure than many even currently living in the warren.

The rabbit hopped forward a few paces, lowering himself on all for feet and nibbling contentedly at the sweet, new grass jeweled with dew.

Suddenly the buck sat up on his hind legs, ears erect and eyes alert for signs of elil even though very few strayed onto the downs.

"It is me," a familiar voice spoke from behind the rabbit and he turned to see the Chief Rabbit himself approach.

Hazel hopped towards the younger rabbit slowly, his lame leg clearly troubling him.

"I thought I would find you out here, Walnut," the Chief Rabbit commented.

Walnut moved towards Hazel and they touched noses.

"I was enjoying the sunrise, Hazel-rah," Walnut told him.

The older rabbit smiled, "I enjoy to silflay fu Inle´myself but to each his own, no?"

Walnut smiled back at his Chief Rabbit.

"Is there anything you wanted in particular, Hazel-rah?" he asked, rubbing his paws over his nose.

The older rabbit didn't answer for a long moment; instead he stared out at the sun rising red and round on the horizon.

"The others are all gathered in the Honeycomb," the Chief Rabbit told Walnut, "Eager to hear your story."

The young rabbit's ears rose up even higher than before, "Again?"

Hazel nodded but Walnut looked uncertain.

"Why do they not want Dandelion to tell the story? Surely he's a better storyteller than I am?" Walnut asked Hazel, "Besides, I cannot tell the very beginning. I was too young at that time."

The Chief Rabbit's dark eyes crinkled.

"Safflower is there now," he told Walnut, "Waiting for you."

The youngster's body language changed at the sound of his mother's name. His muscles grew less tense and his ears lowered.

Hazel nuzzled Walnut's left ear affectionately.

"Come along," the Chief Rabbit said and led the way back into the warren.

Walnut followed down the familiar, comforting runs into the Honeycomb and he sensed at once the presence of multiple rabbits.

"Walnut," a soft voice spoke and in the darkness he felt Safflower's nose touch his.

"Marli," he murmured, speaking the Lapine word for 'mother'.

"Who is all here?" the young rabbit asked and Safflower spoke again.

"Everyone."

Walnut sat back on his hind legs, shocked to find that most of the warren's occupants were crowded around the Honeycomb, barring only the does who were nursing very young kittens.

"Tell the story, Walnut," Threar implored.

"Yes," Dandelion, Watership Down's beloved storyteller, spoke up, "Tell us."

Walnut hesitated.

His mother's warm nose on his drew the words he needed as if by magic.

"It was after the warren's first winter and was moving into its second spring when my adventure began," Walnut started, his voice quiet and nervous as it always was when he started to tell the story.

He turned to Safflower and she continued, speaking of the parts that her son did not know of, only from what she had told him because he had been too young to remember.

"I recall it was a cold day for spring," Safflower began, "There was frost on the grass when I went aboveground to silflay the morning I had my kittens…"


	2. Birth And Death

I had seen birth and death but had thought they were different

-T.S. Eliot

Safflower, heavy with her unborn litter, made her way slowly out of one of the runs of the Watership Down warren and into the warm early morning sun. It was just after sunrise, and even then, frost glinted like glass amid the emerald green leaves of turf that covered the downs.

The doe paused to pass hraka before continuing on, away from the warren greeting the other rabbits around her as she moved.

Nibbling at the new grass poking out amongst the crushed, brown leaves, Safflower hopped towards a quiet patch of clover, eating in relative privacy.

The doe was rather unremarkable looking, a man would not be able to tell her apart from any other rabbit on the down but for the four horizontal scars running across her face, from the base of her right ear to her nose, souvenir from General Woundwort. Safflower, who had gone tharn on the bank of the river, torn between her horror at the water and the approaching Chief Rabbit of Efrafa had not been quick enough to dodge the blow dealt to her by the enraged General, spurring her into action and getting her onto the boat. The wounds, though deep, had not been deadly and she had survived the journey down the river and under the bridge. The scars served for Safflower as a grim reminder of the tyranny she and many others had faced under General Woundwort's rule and that she would not stand for that kind of treatment again.

As she nibbled, Safflower thought about those who had died in their flight to Watership Down; her sister, Thrayonlosa had stopped running after she had been caught in the back by the low bridge, the work of metal and stone tearing a fatal gash down her spine.

Sitting up on her hind legs, the doe wiped her nose and ears with her front paws, trying to dislodge the sad memories from her mind. She had nothing to fear now. Watership Down was safe from elil of all forms.

Looking back, Safflower smiled at the sight of does and bucks, young and not so young, cropping at the grass close to the holes of the warren.

Abruptly pain tore sliced through her as though she had been struck by lightning. Safflower writhed, the breath drawn from her lungs so she could not even squeal.

As suddenly as the pain had come, it vanished, leaving the doe panting and confused.

Ears laying flat against her skull, Safflower turned in the direction of the down.

A second jolt of agony raced through the doe, causing her to kick out helplessly. The pain, Safflower realized, was that of labour; her kittens were coming.

But too early, the doe knew, far too early.

As the pain began to grow, it drove all rational thought from the rabbit's mind so instead of heading back to the security of the warren, Safflower turned around and ran away from it. She needed to find a safe place to have her kittens, underground or hidden.

Running blindly, the doe screamed in terror when her paws left solid ground and she tumbled down a slope in the earth, falling into a hollow such as the one where Bigwig and Silver had found Kehaar.

Lying on her side, gasping for air, Safflower closed her eyes as she shook, pain engulfing her.

WD

"Has anyone seen Safflower?" Hyzenthlay asked a group of three or four does enjoying the tender green shoots of grass that had come up in the warming sun.

"She came this way not too long ago," a doe named Rosehip told her through a mouthful of clover.

The others nodded in agreement with Rosehip's words but offered nothing to the conversation.

"Is something the matter?" Rosehip asked.

Hyzenthlay crouched in the grass, peering out over the downs.

"I am not sure," she muttered, "But Safflower, her kittens are coming soon and I know she wouldn't stray too far from the warren."

Hyzenthlay had known Safflower in Efrafa and knew her to be a rational, sensible doe.

"Perhaps she has gone inside already," Rosehip suggested and Hyzenthlay looked to her, "Perhaps you are right."

Turning away from the gathered does, Hyzenthlay returned to the warren and entered the close, warm tunnels of the warren.

WD

"Safflower? Safflower!"

Hyzenthlay looked up at the sound of a rabbit shouting. Curious, she hopped to the opening of the burrow she shared with Hazel and peered out.

"Have you seen her?"

"No, not since dawn silflay."

"She didn't come back… I can't find her…"

Coming into the tunnel ahead of Hyzenthlay was Cloud, Safflower's mate. His eyes were round and large with fright and worry; Hyzenthlay could see their whites.

"I need to speak to the Chief Rabbit," Cloud said, coming upon Hyzenthlay.

"What's all this then?" a loud voice called from farther down the tunnel and the doe recognized Bigwig's voice.

Cloud turned in the run to face Bigwig.

"I can't find Safflower, sir," the former Efrafan rabbit answered, "I need to speak with the Chief Rabbit."

"Let us not jump to conclusions," Bigwig told the distraught Cloud, "I am certain we'll find Safflower."

Hyzenthlay could see Cloud sag with relief. His ears drooped and his nose nearly touched the floor of the tunnel.

"I'll gather up a few others and we can all search for Safflower," Bigwig told Cloud.

"I want to help," Hyzenthlay announced and came up the run behind Cloud.

The look on gratitude on the former Efrafan rabbit's face was impossible to ignore, even in the darkness of the warren.

WD

Cloud sat up on his back legs and peered over his shoulder at the small group of rabbits gathered behind him.

Bigwig and Hyzenthlay, Rosehip, Danelion and Silver had all offered to help in the search for his missing mate.

No such thing would have happened in Efrafa.

Then again, Safflower would probably have not had a litter if they were still in Efrafa.

Cloud, one of the five rabbits to surrender to Hazel and the other residents of Watership Down, along with Groundsel who himself was now Chief Rabbit of the new warren at Caesar's Belt, could barely recall life before these times. Efrafa, as it had been under General Woundwort's command, seemed like a long ago nightmare.

"Where did you see her last?" Cloud heard Bigwig ask Rosehip about Safflower.

"She passed us on her way to that patch of clover," the doe answered and Cloud looked where she indicated.

Hopping over to the close-cropped clover flowers, Cloud could clearly smell Safflower's scent over that of the foliage.

A sudden, horrible thought occurred to Cloud and he peered over his shoulder at the rescue party.

"What if she was taken by elil?"

"Unlikely," Silver told him, "Any rabbit would have seen elil a long way off before they could get close enough to attack. Even Safflower, in her condition, would have been able to get back to the warren in time."

"Are you certain?" Cloud asked, his whiskers trembling nervously.

Silver nodded, "The biggest threat out here are the kestrels and they only go after kittens."

"Then where is she?" Cloud whispered, turning back to peer across the downs.

WD

Safflower sighed. The pain had vanished and although she was exhausted and weak, she was buoyed with happiness and pride.

Five tiny, pink, and helpless rabbit kittens huddled on the grass next to Safflower, blind though actively seeking to suckle.

The doe nuzzle them with her soft, warm nose before looking up, startled at the sound of voices approaching.

"Safflower?"

She peered up at the sound of her mate's voice.

"Oh no," she heard Bigwig mutter, "This is not good."

"They're here, Cloud," Safflower told her buck, "They were early but they're all live."

Her mate hopped into the depression beside her and they touched noses.

Safflower could hear the others talking quietly above them but she wasn't listening.

WD

Hyzenthlay peered down at the tiny, hairless kittens nestled against Safflower's side and frowned.

The kittens, born too early, were small and she didn't think they would survive, especially not out in the hollow, where they and Safflower would be at the mercy of the elements.

"There is no way to move them," she heard Silver say, "Not now anyway."

"But if we leave them out here, they'll die for certain," Bigwig argued.

Hyzenthlay watched as Silver eyed the larger rabbit, "Do you want to disturb Safflower? Maybe frighten her into eating the kittens?"

"Of course not!" Bigwig exclaimed, looking insulted, "But it isn't safe out here."

Hyzenthlay looked at Dandelion. The doe rubbed her front paws over her nose as she thought.

"Is there a way to keep the kittens safe until they are strong enough to be moved to the warren?" she asked Dandelion.

The other rabbit raised himself up on his back legs and glanced back towards the warren.

"Some of the beech trees lost their branches over the winter," Dandelion began, "Maybe we could use that to our advantage. Have Cloud dig a scrape for himself and Safflower then we could bring some of the beech branches here to cover it up, hide it a bit."

Hyzenthlay smiled, that seemed like the best course of action.

WD

By moonrise that evening, Cloud, Safflower and their kittens were as snug and hidden as possible in the hollow. Cloud had dug a deep scrape close to where Safflower lay and as carefully as possible had rolled the newborn kittens the couple of inches into it, their mother curling her body around them to keep them warm.

Above them all the sky was crisscrossed with skeletal beech branches, some with bronzed leaves attached, which had been brought to the hollow by Bigwig, Silver, and Dandelion.

It was certainly not the best start for the kittens but it was the best chance the rabbits of Watership Down could give them.

WD

A number of days had passed. Safflower's kittens were still very small and only had odd patches of fur covering their bodies, but their eyes were open and they grew increasingly active.

The doe had hopped away from the scrape, only a few feet, in order to nibble at the grass nearby and to pass hraka away from her young.

Cloud was higher up, on the top of the down with the other rabbits. Safflower was alone.

The doe sniffed the air, searching for tender grass shoots when a new, strange and ominous smell wafted towards her on the air.

When she had lived in Efrafa she had never known what men smelled like but here on the downs, they occasionally walked, often with their white sticks in their mouths.

Safflower froze, her gaze going to her litter only a few feet away before searching the grass around her, eyes alert for the danger.

Slow, dull vibrations travelled up through the ground beneath Safflower's feet and she bolted, dashing beneath the beech branches and into the scrape to protect her kittens.

Overhead, she heard the rapid thudding of a rabbit's warning signal and knew that the others were rushing towards the safety of the runs, Cloud among them.

The air over Safflower became thick with the dull, slow speech of men and the doe's heart hammered in her chest, her every instinct telling her to run to safety.

But she couldn't leave her kittens. They needed her.

Closer, the man was coming closer, and closer, and closer.

Safflower's fear overruled her maternal instinct and she fled from the scrape, scrabbling up the side of the hollow towards the warren, all the while terrified for her kittens.

The doe raced across the open ground and dove into the first hole she saw, shaking and panting.

"Safflower! Are you all right?" a familiar voice, Thethuthinnang, asked and the mother shook her head.

"My kittens! Oh, my kittens! I have abandoned them! Oh, they are dead! I know they are!" Safflower wailed as Thethuthinnang crouched beside her, trying to comfort her with a nose to hers.

WD

Cloud and Safflower, along with Hyzenthlay and Bigwig crept forwards once the man had gone on his way.

Safflower was beside herself with fear and guilt. Her mate nuzzled his nose into her side, trying to tell her that whatever happened, it would not be her fault.

"I shouldn't have left them alone!" Safflower lamented, "I should have stayed!"

"If you had," Bigwig comment, "We might have lost you."

The doe said nothing. They were approaching the top of the hollow where Safflower had had her litter.

"I could go down first," Cloud suggested but his mate shook her head, "I am coming too."

Grimly, while the others waited, Cloud and Safflower made their way down into the hollow.

The first thing the rabbits noticed was the pervasive smell of men and their white sticks, the second thing was that the carefully arranged beech branches had been moved aside and that the scrape had been disturbed; the dried grasses and fur pulled from Safflower's belly had been pushed aside and the kittens were nowhere to be seen.

"Oh they are gone! Dead! I know they are!" Safflower cried, full of guilt and sorrow.

Cloud laid his ears flat against his head, sadness washing over him for his lost kittens.

"Wait!"

Cloud raised his head and saw Bigwig, Silver and Dandelion peering over the edge of the hollow.

"The kittens might be alive," Bigwig told them.

Safflower looked hopeful though doubtful and Cloud's face took on a cynical expression.

"They were too small to eat, surely," Bigwig continued, "Perhaps the man took them because he thought they were abandoned because they were aboveground."

Cloud hesitated but could see how that made sense, even though he didn't know a great deal about men or their ways.

"But they are still lost," Cloud whispered.

Bigwig, nor any of the others, had any reply to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned to find out what happened to Safflower's kittens!


	3. Away from the Downs

If my ship sails from sight, it doesn't mean my journey ends; it simply means the river bends.

\- Enoch Powell

Wilbur Ridgeway walked slowly away from the downs, one arm raised to cradle the warm bundle against his chest.

He had not been on the downs in many years, not since he was a boy about the same age as his young son, Anthony was now.

Wilbur Ridgeway was not even certain what had possessed him to venture onto the downs that morning. It was not close to his farm and the land was essential devoid of anything of interest to the man.

Perhaps Wilbur had been drawn to the place of his childhood because Anthony seemed to have had no time to be a child himself.

The man cringed at the thought of his son, right then probably lying in bed; too weak to go outside and play with the boys from the nearby farmsteads or even attend school. Wilbur Ridgeway and his wife, Mary, were grateful that Miss Adams was kind enough to come to their home twice a week to tutor Anthony.

Catching sight of his truck sitting on the narrow dirt road where he had left it, the farmer began walking faster; quickly glancing into his jacket at the five rabbit kits snuggled against the flannel of his shirt.

They were small, smaller than even a newborn rabbit should be, with tufts of brown and grey fur sprouting up in patches along their pink skins. Their eyes were open and they wriggled constantly but Wilbur was not convinced they would survive. They certainly wouldn't have lived if he'd left them in that hollow on top of the downs. Not only were birds of prey a threat to the kits but also the early spring weather on the downs could be unpredictable and ruthless.

Besides, Wilbur thought, it would be good for Anthony to have something to take care of, to help take his mind of his illness.

Opening the driver's side door to his truck, the farmer carefully climbed into the cab. Smiling at the sight of the basket his wife had packed for him sitting on the passenger's seat, Wilbur used his free hand and drew out its contents: a ham and cheese sandwich, an apple, a slice of strawberry pie and a bottle of beer, and gently nestled the rabbit kits against the handkerchief lining the basket.

Turning the key in the ignition, Wilbur Ridgeway drove slowly down the rutted dirt road that led away from the downs, his thoughts on his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to leave Kudos or a Comment. Either would be much appreciated.


	4. Ridgeway Farm

The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.

-Masanobu Fukuoka

Anthony Ridgeway pulled himself up onto his elbows in bed when he heard the rusty growl of his father's truck as it pulled into the dooryard.

Swinging his feet out from under the warm patchwork quilt draped across his bed, the ten-year old boy set his feet on the hardwood floor of his bedroom, shivering as a chill instantly leeched into the skin of his soles.

Ignoring the cold, Anthony pushed himself up, thin hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and stood swaying for a moment before taking the eight steps to the window.

Peering out through the whorled glass panes, the boy watched his father cross the yard, walking slowly, one arm raised against his chest.

For a moment, Anthony's heart gave a painful jolt- had his father been hurt out there on the downs- before he realized that it looked as though the man was cradling something in his jacket and not favouring an injured arm.

Now the boy's heart began to beat rapidly, not from fear but from excitement and he hurried to the door of his bedroom, barely feeling the coolness of the hardwood planks beneath his feet.

Opening the door, Anthony rushed into the narrow landing and down the steep staircase, disregarding to hold the railing.

"Anthony! Where are you going?" Mary Ridgeway called from the kitchen as her only son rushed past in a patter of bare feet on stone floors- smoothed by generations of Ridgeways travelling back and forth- and towards the door.

"Dad has something for me!" Anthony called breathlessly, all ready feeling his lungs begin to tighten in response to the activity of running downstairs, "I know he does!"

"Put something on your feet before you go outside!" his mother called from the kitchen followed by a soft shuffling as she approached the doorway, "And your coat; you'll catch your death of cold."

Stepping from one foot to the other impatiently, Anthony pulled his wool-lined coat from the hook beside the door and shoved his chilled feet into his yellow galoshes.

Dressed, the boy yanked the front door open and dashed out into the yard, scattering a group of brown speckled chickens with a series of indignant squawks.

"Dad! Dad!" Anthony called as he headed towards the barn.

"Anthony! What are you doing out here?" Wilbur asked as his son appeared in the doorway of the barn, drawing in ragged breaths.

"Did… you get… something for… me?"

Wilbur Ridgeway turned and his son saw he had the door to the old rabbit hutch open. It was small and old; the family had a larger one, which they kept outside, along with a half-dozen rabbits.

"What did your mama say to you coming outside in this weather?"

Anthony stepped into the barn, "I'm wearing my galoshes and coat."

The father squinted at his son for a long moment before he spoke again, "Yeah, you are."

"Come here, son," Wilbur held out an arm and beckoned his son forward.

The ten-year old did as his father asked and stepped up beside him, old straw crunching beneath his boots and the smell of cows in his nostrils.

Peering into the open door of the rabbit hutch, Anthony saw five kits curled up in his father's handkerchief.

"I found them out on the downs," Wilbur said, laying a hand his son's shoulder, "Abandoned, it looked like, and none too healthy. Thought you'd maybe like to take care of them 'til they were old enough to put in with the others."

Anthony stared down at the squirming pink infant rabbits and suddenly felt his throat squeeze. His father rarely let him help with duties on the farm; even feeding the chickens was something his parents insisted was too much for him.

"Really, Dad? I can look after them on my own?" the ten-year old asked.

Wilbur nodded, "They're your responsibility now."

Feeling tears well up in his eyes, Anthony reached out and hugged his father.

Wilbur's hand moved from his son's shoulder to his back, patting the boy gently.

Pulling away, Anthony swiped a hand across his face, smiling for a moment before doubling over in a fit of coughing.

"Anthony," his father said concernedly but the boy shook his head, straightening and smiling again, "I'm all right, Dad."

"Come inside," Wilbur said but Anthony shook his head, "Can I stay out a little longer? Please?"

Sighing, his father nodded, "A little while."

Turning his back to his father, Anthony carefully closed the door to the hutch before looking through the chicken wire on its sides at the young rabbits nestled inside.

WDWD

Curled together, Safflower's kittens mewled for their mother, the pungent scent of manure and the sharp tang of men invading their delicate noses.

Wriggling past his siblings, Walnut laid on his side, his back pressed tightly against his brother's, one dark brown eye peering up at the strange ceiling overhead.

Something was wrong; Walnut could no longer see the blue sky and the beech branches that had formed a crude roof above the hollow were gone, replaced by flat, rough wood boards that allowed for no light from the sun to shine through.

The young rabbit tried to remember what had happened for his brother and sisters to be in this unfamiliar place.

"Mulberry," Walnut whispered and twisted round to face his brother.

Mulberry opened one black eye and stared at his sibling, nose twitching.

"Where are we?" Walnut asked, fearfully.

Mulberry, first-born and slightly larger than Walnut and their sisters, seemed the one to know what was going on, if anyone was to be asked.

"Are you daft?" Mulberry asked, "It was a man. He took us away from Mother. He took us away in his hrududu."

Walnut said nothing for a moment, than whispered, "Where are we?"

It was Mulberry's turn for silence. He chewed his lip for a long moment before responding, "I don't know."

Walnut sighed and returned his gaze to the roof of the hutch, lost in thought.

WDWD

Anthony unlatched the lid of the rabbit hutch and carefully reached inside. He closed his hand gently around the rabbit kit that was lying to the edge of the group and lifted the squirming creature.

"It's all right," the ten-year old murmured, "I'm not going to hurt you."

He drew his arm close to his chest and with his free hand moved the eyedropper filled with cow's milk close to the infant rabbit. At first the kit turned its head this way and that, refusing the milk and Anthony was afraid that if it didn't drink it would starve before the rabbit's tiny pink tongue poked out and it lapped at the milk beaded at the dropper's end.

The ten-year old smiled as he carefully fed the baby rabbit and it slowly stopped trying to wiggle out of his grip.

Dutifully, Anthony fed the other four kits before putting them back into the hutch and closing the lid. Instead of heading back inside, however, he stared through the side of the hutch and watched the infant rabbits for a while, feeling a sudden sense of pride that his father trusted him with the care of the kits.

"I don't have any friends," the ten-year old confided in the rabbits, unaware that to them, his words came out as the slow, deep speech of Men and had no meaning to them.

"I can't go to school," Anthony continued, "Or very far from the farm."

"But I'd like to have a friend," the boy whispered, his nose pressed to the chicken wire that made up the side of the hutch, "I suppose you will be my friends."

Anthony smiled and stood up when he heard his mother calling his name from the house.

"I'll be back later," he promised and walked quickly to the house where Mary Ridgeway held the front door open for him, the scent of dinner spurring the boy to jog in anticipation of the meal.

"Wash your hands before you sit down," the farmer's wife told her son and Anthony nodded as he slipped off his coat and galoshes.

Walking into the kitchen where his parents were already sitting at the table, the ten-year old went to the sink and washed his hands in icy water, rubbing them with a bar of coarse, yellow soap before drying them on the tea towel hanging from the old wood-burning stove the Ridgeway's still used.

Coming to the table and sitting down, Anthony frowned at the sight of the roasted rabbit sitting on a platter, surrounded by carrots and potatoes.

"Dad?" the boy glanced at his father as Wilbur cut into the roasted meat, "We're not going to eat my rabbits, are we?"

Wilbur placed the slices of meat onto his plate and squinted at his son.

"Not right now," the farmer said, "They're only kits."

Anthony swallowed hard, "I mean when they're grown."

Mary glanced at her husband as she took her portion of meat. Wilbur sighed and raked a hand through his thinning hair.

"Well now," he began, "You know every animal on the farm has a purpose; the cows give milk, the chickens lay eggs, the cat catches mice and the rabbits are for meat."

"But not my rabbits, right?" Anthony insisted. Although he had only had the kits for a few hours, the ten-year old felt responsible for them.

"Mayhap we will, mayhap we won't," Wilbur told his son, "They're pretty small. They may not even grow as big as our other rabbits; they may not be good for eating."

Anthony let out a breath, "All right."

"But if they turn out," Wilbur pointed at his son with his fork, "You best not say anything about it."

The ten-year old nodded and asked his mother quietly to pass the basket of rolls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to comment or leave kudos! Support is much appreciated.


	5. Safflower's Kits

All things truly wicked start from innocence

\- Ernest Hemingway

At first the kittens were terrified of the Man who took away the ceiling of the hutch and picked them up; the rabbits could feel the strength in his hands and knew that if he had a mind to, could crush their bones as easily as twigs.

But he never did.

Instead the Man held the kits firmly yet with tenderness as he fed them milk. The milk did not taste like their mother's milk but the rabbits were so hungry they lapped it up with their tiny pink tongues gratefully.

Soon Safflower's kits learned not to fear the Man but to anticipate his arrival, growing every day for his nurturing.

The young rabbits did not know much about humans- what little they knew they had learned from their mother during their short time with her- but they quickly became content and complacent, the care they received easing their natural fear of large predators.

Walnut sat on all fours as he peered out through the chicken wire on the side of the hutch at the interior of the barn. All five kits now had soft brown fur coating their entire bodies, their dark eyes were clear and they were increasingly active, especially at dawn and dusk.

Rubbing a paw over his nose, Walnut, the smallest of the siblings, laid his ears flat against his head.

"I wonder what happened to Mother," he muttered out loud.

One of his sisters, Fern, spoke up, "Maybe the Man killed her."

Walnut glanced at his sibling, whiskers twitching, "No, I don't think so, don't you remember what happened right before?"

Fern, chewing on a piece of straw, shook her head.

"She ran away," Walnut continued, struggling to recall the memory; it was one of his earliest and like to disappear like the smoke from a human's white stick, "Something scared her and she left us."

"She could still be dead," Fern commented.

Walnut shook his head, "I can't believe it."

"Why are you so concerned about Mother? If she left us, as you believe she did, she mustn't have wanted us. I, for one, think we were quite lucky that Man found us."

"Lucky?" Walnut asked, "How can we be lucky? Separated from our warren? Locked up in this box? I want to be out there; I want to taste the grass, feel the wind in my fur."

Fern shrugged, "How do you even know we had a warren?"

Walnut sighed, "Every rabbit has to have a warren."

"Well, maybe we didn't," his sister argued, "Maybe that was why we were outside."

Walnut scratched his ear with one hind paw and turned away from his sibling. He didn't know why Fern was so eager to forget about their mother, about being outside, but he knew he wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise.

He turned to see his other siblings were fast asleep, curled together. Hopping over to them, Walnut squeezed in between his brother and another sister and closed his eyes.

WD

"You're doing a fine job with those rabbits, son," Wilbur Ridgeway peered into the hutch in the barn at Safflower's kits.

Anthony smiled proudly.

"Soon enough they'll be big enough to put with the others," his father commented.

"Dad," the boy's face turned pale, "You said we wouldn't eat them."

Wilbur met his son's eyes, "Now, I said that if they were too small we wouldn't eat them. They're getting bigger every day, all but the one anyway, and you know our rabbits are for eating."

Tears gushed into the boy's eyes but he nodded, "Okay Dad… but… can I keep the small one? As a pet, please?"

The farmer ran a hand through his thinning hair, blew out a breath between pursed lips as he thought for a moment.

Gazing down at the five kits, he nodded, "All right. But the other four…"

Wilbur didn't need to finish his sentence; his son knew what he meant.

WD

Walnut huddled with his brother and sisters and stared at the six older rabbits staring at them across the small patch of grass the outdoor cage covered. This hutch was different than the one in the barn, its sides made up entirely of chicken wire to give the rabbits and three hundred and sixty degree view of the farmyard they were in, and a wooden roof with a latch that could be lifted so straw could be placed inside or an animal taken out.

One of the older rabbits, which had white socks on her paws, stepped forward and sniffed the kits.

"Welcome," she greeted in a quiet tone, "My name is Snowdrop."

Mulberry, who was the oldest of Safflower's kits, responded, "Is the Man still here?"

Snowdrop dipped her nose down, "Yes, we are simply here for the summer."

"You got your wish, Walnut," Fern commented, flexing her toes against the grass, "We're outside."

"What are your names?" Snowdrop asked, looking to Mulberry.

"My name is Mulberry," he replied, "My brother Walnut and my sisters, Fern, Peony and Thresanyn."

Snowdrop nodded, "You already know my name but there is also Yarrow, Thistle, Enthuthlay, Bryony and Iris."

The older rabbits approached the younger, pressing noses to noses and sniffing each other to become familiar with one another and show they were no threat.

"Did you all come from warrens?" Walnut asked, finding his voice.

The older rabbits all shook their heads save one. Enthuthlay stepped forward, "I came from a warren just past the cow field."

The rabbit pointed her nose in the direction of the field where even now a herd of black and white cows cropped at the springtime grass in a docile fashion.

"The Man caught me when I tried to steal some hay from the barn," Enthuthlay told the younger rabbits, "Over the winter. He found me and chased me out of the barn but his cat caught me before I could escape. He put me in here with the others."

Walnut stared at the older rabbit with wide eyes, "You had a warren? Maybe that's where we came from!"

Enthuthlay smiled gently, "Perhaps."

"Our mother's name is Safflower," Walnut told her, "And our father is called Cloud, do you know them?"

The older rabbit thought for a moment before shaking her head, "I'm afraid not."

Walnut's ears drooped sadly.

Peony, who was nibbling on some fresh clover leaves interrupted the conversation, "The Man just keeps you in here?"

Snowdrop nodded, "As I said before, we are only here until summer's end."

"Then you're moved to the box in the barn, are you?" Fern added, sitting right beside her sister.

"Oh no," Yarrow commented, his tone surprised, "We all leave, eventually. Every so often the Man comes and takes one of us away."

"He does?" Walnut asked, a chill running down his spine.

"Yes," Thistle added, "Why, just yesterday, he took Daffodil."

"Where does he take them?" Walnut asked.

"We don't know," Thistle told him, "We only know we never see them again."

Before Walnut could ask any more questions, Snowdrop interrupted, "Well, this isn't appropriate to discuss. Let's all Silflay and not talk about Daffodil any longer."

Snowdrop nuzzled Thistle away from Walnut and the older rabbits ate the grass at the far end of the hutch while Safflower's kits remained where they were.

Walnut nibbled at a stalk of grass, peering across the hutch at Snowdrop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the ridiculously long wait. I had a terrible case of Writer's Block and had no idea where to go with this story. But, I haven't ever abandoned a fic and I don't plan to start. Thank you for your patience and continued support.   
> Please take a moment and leave kudos! It would be greatly appreciated.


	6. A Great Escape

The secret to happiness is freedom. And the secret to freedom is courage.

\- Thucydides

For a number of days, the Man came and went to the outdoor rabbit hutch, bringing only fresh hay or vegetable rubbish- the tops of carrots, apple skins and the like- for them to eat but took none of the animals away.

Walnut, his brother Mulberry and his sisters Thresanyn and Peony remained close, wary of the other rabbits, especially Snowdrop who seemed not to like them to ask too many questions.

Fern, however, became fast companions with the doe with the white socks, as well as Yarrow and Thistle. She stopped speaking with her siblings altogether and remained at the opposite side of the hutch as her family members, completely content with the farm rabbits.

WD

Walnut sniffed nervously at the beet greens the Man had placed in the hutch. They had a strange smell but he didn't know what it was exactly. The vegetables tasted all right, but the smell was off, and not simply because they were old.

Instead of indulging in the greens, he found a patch of clover and ate that instead.

"I don't like this, Mulberry," Walnut muttered to his brother as the older kit hopped over to eat beside him, "Something isn't right about this."

Mulberry, munching away at a mouthful of grass shoots, nodded, "I know what you mean. The more I think about it, the more it troubles me."

"Mother told us Men were dangerous," Walnut whispered, "So why would this one be giving us hay and greens to eat if he didn't want something from us?"

His brother nodded, "And where do the rabbits go when the Man takes them away?"

Both bucks remained silent for a long moment as they ate, lost in their thoughts, before Walnut spoke up again, "I want to talk to Enthuthlay. She lived in a warren. I want to know if she has any ideas."

Mulberry raised his head and nodded.

The doe was eating the greens the Man had brought with Bryony and Iris, appearing just as contented as the other rabbits.

Mulberry, eldest, hopped over to Enthuthlay and sat besides her, picking a wilted celery stalk to munch quietly for a few moments before speaking.

In sotto voce, the younger rabbit asked if the doe would talk to him and his siblings.

Enthuthlay lifted her head, the end of a carrot leaf poking out of her mouth, and turned one brown eye to the kits.

She followed Mulberry to the far side of the hutch and paused for a moment, munching away on a couple of clover flowers she found there.

"What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked the kits. Walnut, Thesanyn and Peony had joined Mulberry alongside the older rabbit.

"Where do the others go when the Man takes them?" Walnut blurted out, unable to keep the question inside any longer.

"I do not know," Enthuthlay told them, "But I have watched the Man take them around to the back of the barn. I do not know what happens to them there."

Walnut swallowed, "Our mother taught us Men were dangerous, that they would kill us like the fox and the hawk. Do you think that the Man who feeds us kills the rabbits he takes behind the barn?"

"It is possible," the doe admitted, "Rabbits from my warren vanished every so often and my Chief told us to stay away from the Man when he came into the field to tend the cows."

"Does that mean that the Man will eat us?" Peony asked, her eyes wide with fear.

Enthuthlay said nothing.

"We need to get away before that happens!" Walnut exclaimed.

"How do we do that?" Mulberry asked brusquely, "We can't climb or bite through the wire."

"No," Walnut admitted, "But we can dig."

"Can you help us? Don't you want to return to your warren?" Walnut asked Enthuthlay.

The doe hesitated but a moment before nodding, her nose twitching with emotion.

"Then it's settled," Walnut told the others, "We're going to escape."

WD

There was no way to keep what they were doing from the other rabbits in the hutch and when Snowdrop discovered their plan she was enraged.

Rising up onto her hind legs, Snowdrop towered over the kits, "You ungrateful little rapscallions!"

"If the Man finds out about this we'll all be in trouble!"

"That foolish Enthuthlay has put nonsense stories in your heads!"

The kits ignored her and continued on with their plan while the doe with the white socks fumed from the opposite side of the cage.

Walnut's sisters tried to convince Fern to assist them but she turned her back to her siblings. She was convinced that they would have a better life on the farm and refused to leave.

"Don't you remember how Mother abandoned us?" she asked, "She ran away when we were in danger. Why would you want to go back to her? If she's even still alive," she added cruelly.

"Leave her," Peony commented angrily, licking mud from her paws, "She can stay if she likes."

Walnut peered sadly across the cage at his sister but said nothing else. Peony was right; they could not force Fern to come with them. He was afraid, though, of what would happen to her if she stayed.

WD

It did not take long to dig out from underneath the chicken wire. It was not set deep into the earth, only a couple of inches, but the rabbits needed to be cautious about digging.

The Man came to the cage about mid-morning and dumped a bucket full of vegetable scraps in with the rabbits. Enthuthlay lay over the mouth of the tunnel to keep it hidden until the Man had left.

By the time evening silflay came Walnut had pushed his nose through the dirt on the other side of the chicken wire and kicked his legs in joy.

"We did it! Mulberry! Thresanyn! Peony! We did it!"

Wriggling backwards, his fur coated with dirt, he let Enthuthlay widen the tunnel.

Snowdrop and the other farm rabbits watched with expressions of anger or mild curiosity.

"As soon as the tunnel's wide enough for all of us we can go," Walnut assured his siblings, smiling, wiping soil from his ears with his paws.

"We must still be careful," Enthuthlay mumbled from within the tunnel, "There are barn cats to watch out for and the dog."

Walnut glanced at his brother and sisters; he hadn't thought about that.

"We'll get past them," Mulberry announced, puffing out his chest.

WD

As soon as the first stars had appeared the rabbits were ready for their escape.

Peony turned once more to Fern, in the hopes that she would join them. But the young rabbit simply moved closer to Snowdrop, her nose in the air.

"It'll be your own fault if you get torn apart by elil."

"You kits go first," Enthuthlay instructed, but stay to just the other side of the wire and I'll come right after."

She watched as one by one, the younger rabbits wriggled into the tunnel and popped out on the other side of the chicken wire, ears and backs flat to hide them in the grass.

Just as Enthuthlay was about to follow them, a voice called out, "Wait!"

Turning, she saw Iris and Yarrow step forward.

"We want to come with you," Yarrow told her, pointedly looking away from Snowdrop.

Enthuthlay stared at them for a long moment.

"All right," she agreed and scanned the remaining rabbits; no one else moved.

"You two go ahead," she told them and the buck and doe quickly moved through the tunnel to join the kits on the other side.

"You don't know what you're doing," Snowdrop hissed, "You'll regret this decision."

"Maybe I will," Enthuthlay, "but at least I am not simply sitting and getting fat on scraps, waiting for the Man to take me away."

With that, she too squeezed into the tunnel and out onto the other side. The night was moonless and the stars gave very limited light; the rabbits would be as hidden from their enemies as their enemies would be concealed from them.

"What's next?" Iris asked, her eyes wide in the gloom, her chest heaving.

Enthuthlay turned until she was pointed towards the cow pasture and beyond that, her home warren. They would have to cross a cornfield to get to the cattle, and thankfully not the farmyard itself.

"This way," she murmured, her heart hammering in her chest and all her instincts telling her to run, "And be quiet."

Slowly, ears pricked for any sound that wasn't friendly, Enthuthlay hopped away from the chicken wire cage, the others following silently behind her, praying to Frith that she was not leading them all to their deaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely long wait for this chapter. I kind of lost the motivation to write this and many of my other stories for a while. A lot has happened since I last updated this tale; I finished my latest college course, had to move back in with my parents for a few months, got a part-time job, moved into an apartment by myself and continued to be busy with work. Even with all that, I still struggled to write, and although I am still not completely over my 'writer's block' I am slowly getting better. I hope I won't take as long to update the next chapter!
> 
> Please be kind; leave a comment or kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Watership Down fanfic. I was re-reading the book- one of my favourites- and wanted to try my hand at fanfiction. Hope you enjoy, everyone!


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